


escalated almost to an art

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alien Sex, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Creepy, Dark, Drugged Sex, Electricity, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Orgasm, Hallucinations, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Orgy, Overstimulation, Power Dynamics, Sakaar (Marvel), Sex Toys, Sounding, Temporary Amnesia, Truth Serum, Unhealthy Relationships, all the way to that non-con warning, horrific porn? is that a genre?, look. look, this is not a very nice fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 00:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13376013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Loki's in over his head when it comes to the Grandmaster, and he knows it.But maybe he didn't quite realize how much.





	escalated almost to an art

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this fic has a **warning** for dub-con developing into non-con/rape, so...mind that one.
> 
> So sometimes you have those fics where you're writing and it's like "YEAH, I'M SO INTO THIS, I'M SO HAPPY ABOUT WHAT'S HAPPENING HERE" and sometimes you have those fics that are like "oh my god what the hell am I doing I'm riding a runaway train and like it's a thrill ride but also I'm terrified" and this fic was kind of one of the latter? But, uh, it ended up being a lot of fun, and if you're here for _truly appalling dubious porn_ I feel like this fic is dedicated to you. Because clearly that's what _I'm_ here for. 
> 
> I owe a debt of thanks to someone on Tumblr who prompted this for me and made it happen. And a debt of thanks to [my beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), who didn't judge me at all, and to all the people on my Tumblr who heard me talking about "horrifying smut" and thought that sounded like fun.
> 
> So...enjoy?

Loki was not new to the experience of drugs. He’d tasted any number of intoxicants, stimulants, hallucinogens and other assorted chemical cocktails over the years - and if he hadn’t liked most of them (he preferred to keep a clear head, thank you), there were a few that had been...fun.

Sakaar liked them a great deal more. And the Grandmaster possibly more than most of Sakaar. 

Loki took one look at the drink he was being offered, at the Grandmaster’s smile, and knew without asking that there was something in it other than alcohol. He brought it up to his nose and sniffed, but all he could smell was unfamiliar spices and the tang of liquor. 

Asking what was in it would probably be rude. Loki had learned very quickly that it was a very bad idea to be rude. 

“Drink up,” the Grandmaster said brightly. 

“Why, thank you,” Loki said, and took it. It...tasted good, at least. Sweet, with a slight tang. He held it in his mouth a moment, trying to detect any hint of what he should be expecting, but couldn’t feel anything other than a faint tingle on his tongue that could mean anything. 

“You and me,” the Grandmaster said, reaching out and brushing his fingers along Loki’s jaw. “We’re going to have so much fun, aren’t we?” 

Loki wished that didn’t sound so much like a threat.

He wished the fact that it did didn’t send a thrill down his spine.

* * *

It didn’t take long to figure out what had been in the drink.

His body felt warm and relaxed, like he’d sunk into a hot bath; languid and loose and slightly - pleasantly - aroused. Nothing pressing, nothing too intense, just a lazy kind of want settled in his loins - though he suspected as he continued to drink that might change. 

He’d expected something more nefarious. This was almost... _nice._ If he just let go a little, surrendered to the sensation and rode it out…

He could enjoy this. 

“Hello again,” said the Grandmaster, _right_ behind him, and Loki just managed not to jump. He didn’t manage not to shiver, the warm breath on his ear - a very nice sensation. 

“Hello again,” he echoed, turning around with a smile. 

“How’s my favorite guest?” He asked. “Having a good time? That’s - very important to me, you know.”

Loki raised the glass in his direction. “I certainly am. Whatever you used in this...it’s quite nice.”

The Grandmaster’s smile widened. “Isn’t it, though? Come here, let’s see where you are.” He crooked a finger and Loki went, only realizing after how quickly he’d obeyed. He felt the brief urge to frown, but quickly lost it when the Grandmaster brushed his fingers against Loki’s jaw. 

He shivered, a current seeming to flow through his whole body from that point of contact, spreading out through him, sparking that comfortable warmth into something more. He almost _felt_ his eyes glaze over, briefly, and when he blinked his head clear the Grandmaster was looking at him with raised eyebrows and a decidedly pleased smile. 

“Oh, good,” he said. “I was just - guessing, really, you never really know what’s going to...work out.” Loki shook himself a little until his head cleared. Sort of. That only lasted until the Grandmaster slid his hand around the back of Loki’s neck, thumb stroking down the side of his throat. 

His body responded with alacrity. He could almost feel his blood surge, a tug deep in his belly that pulled him to step closer, each slow stroke of his thumb on Loki’s skin sending a shudder of heat through him. Embers fanning into flame, and by the time the Grandmaster stopped, Loki was almost panting. 

“Ooh,” he said, as Loki stared at him trying to clear his hazy thoughts. “That’s...you’re doing great. Are you usually sensitive, or…? Because you’re very...very responsive.” 

Loki’s face felt distinctly warm. “Ah...it’s been a while.” 

“Really? No one’s…? That’s just - a crying shame. Unbelievable.” The Grandmaster shook his head sadly. “Well. We can fix that, absolutely.” 

_This wasn’t how I thought this was going to go,_ Loki thought about saying, but he had a feeling he really should have thought this was _exactly_ how it was going to go. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known there was a _possibility._ He just would have thought that he might have more time. Or warning. Or options.

Well. That was all...academic, now, wasn’t it?

What wasn’t...was the Grandmaster dropping his hand to squeeze Loki’s shoulder, then chucking him under the chin. The way even that patronizing, _condescending_ touch made him gasp, his cock starting to fill. (Even? Or was that ‘especially’?)

“Your problem,” the Grandmaster said, both hands now on Loki’s shoulders and massaging, the sensation almost blissfully good, “is that you think too much. It’s not _always_ a bad thing, I don’t like them pretty and stupid - all right, I don’t like _all_ of them pretty and stupid - but sometimes you gotta know how to stop thinking and just...feel.”

Loki inhaled slowly and let it out in an uneven exhale. He smiled weakly. “I am...feeling.” His whole body was warm, shading toward hot, and he wanted...more. The Grandmaster’s hands on his shoulders, working muscle through layers of clothing, might have been good to begin with but now they just seemed to be winding him tighter.

“You think you are,” the Grandmaster said lightly, and Loki tried very hard not to shiver. His thoughts were - fuzzy, fogging; it was hard to focus on anything except for the desire to be touched, the acute sensitivity of his skin, the heavy weight of his half-hard cock. “But we’ve just - just barely gotten started. I promise, you’ve got a whole lot further to go.”

Loki ended the party in a tangle of limbs, someone’s warm mouth wrapped around his cock, something prehensile tickling the back of his throat, and the Grandmaster’s cock sliding slickly inside him, every sense overloaded, unable to string so much as a single thought together. 

“There,” the Grandmaster purred in his ear, though Loki could barely understand the words, whimpering as the appendage in his mouth thickened, pressing down on his tongue, his body struggling to process whether he was feeling pleasure or pain or both, somehow, at the same time. “There. Isn’t that better?” 

* * *

“We’re all about the experimentation,” the Grandmaster said, holding out a glass of something bright blue. “Trying new things, you know. The spice of life, isn’t it?” 

Loki eyed the drink, trying not to look suspicious. At least this time it was just the two of them, lounging in a tub of heated water. It was positively luxurious, and Loki was actually managing to relax “And might I ask - what is this...experiment?”

“It’s a surprise,” the Grandmaster said. “I love surprises.”

Loki imagined that he probably liked them a lot less when the surprise wasn’t _his,_ but he didn’t think that bore mentioning. He took the drink and sipped it: fizzy, spicy. He could taste just a faint hint of something underneath, almost but not quite masked by the alcohol. 

Unidentifiable, of course. It wouldn’t be that easy. 

He leaned back in the water, drinking it slowly. His thoughts drifted back to the hot springs on Asgard, stretching out on one of the ledges only to have Thor drag him into deeper water, the two of them emerging with bruised ribs or a bloodied lip, laughing-

The memory caught him like an ambush, springing out of the brush to cut his legs out from under him and stab him in the back. His breathing hitched very briefly before he steadied it, body stiffening before he made it relax. He needed to be _careful._

It wasn’t safe to think about such things. He couldn’t afford the distractions. 

The Grandmaster was watching him closely. Carefully. Loki could not hope that he’d missed a second of that reaction. 

“You know,” he said, “plenty of people, ah...leave things behind when they come to Sakaar. Everyone’s got a past, so they say - but that’s the lovely thing about being here. You don’t need to have a past at all. Life...uh, life starts when you get here. Your new life, your _real_ life. Do you hear what I’m saying, Lo-lo?”

“Of course,” Loki said. “Sakaar is a fresh start.” 

“Absolutely,” the Grandmaster said. He got up and waded over to Loki, the water just barely up to his hips. For an ancient being who seemed to spend most of his time occupied in sex and leisure, he managed to keep...very fit. “Clean slate. None of that pesky...those pesky entanglements.” He reached out, taking Loki’s chin and tipping it up towards himself. “Like those ones that keep pulling on you.”

“Oh?” Loki said, a faint touch of nervousness sparking in his belly. The Grandmaster plucked the glass from Loki’s hand and brought it to his lips, tipping it until Loki had to drink or spill. 

“Sure,” the Grandmaster said. “You’ve got all this - _melancholy,_ hanging around. Your beautiful eyes get all shiny and faraway and - it’s really a downer. Just makes me - so sad.” He pulled the glass away and pressed it back into Loki’s hand, replacing it with one of his thumbs running across Loki’s lips.

“I’m sure you could do something about that,” Loki said, tipping his head back and calling up a smile, warm and familiar. The Grandmaster just smiled at him.

“Of course I can,” he said, and retreated back across the tub. “I can fix anything. Finish your drink, sweetheart.”

Loki paused, looked at the glass, then looked at the Grandmaster. Some faint notion forming in his mind. He lowered the cup. “Some people say that our personalities are shaped by our memories,” he said. 

“People say a lot of things,” the Grandmaster said, lounging back with a lazy smile. “I don’t tend to pay most of them much mind.”

Loki finished the rest of his glass slowly, like that would make a difference. The heat was starting to make him feel light-headed, but getting out first would feel like surrender. 

“Everything that happened before,” the Grandmaster said, “doesn’t really matter now. Does it?” 

“Everything that happened before…” Loki frowned. There was something dim, and he grasped for it, and missed. “Before this?” 

“Before me,” the Grandmaster said, a correction. “Before I took you in, like the generous soul that I am.”

Loki reached back. He remembered...something. Vague. Even as he reached for it, though, it ebbed away. He frowned. “I’m...I can’t remember.” Alarm flitted through him. “I can’t _remember._ ”

“Well then,” the Grandmaster said, “it can’t be that important, can it?” 

There was something off about that. But when he reached again…

“You were so unhappy before,” the Grandmaster said, cupping his chin. “Remember? You don’t want to hold on to _that,_ do you? Isn’t it better to just...let those things go? I’m giving you a _break,_ Loki, sweetheart. Take a deep breath.” 

Loki realized he’d been holding it. He _had_ been unhappy. He couldn’t...quite call up specific memories. But there was the feeling, foggy, vague, unpleasant. Why _should_ he try to hold on to that?

He relaxed, stopped trying to fight it, and smiled. “See?” The Grandmaster said. “Isn’t that better?” He climbed on top of Loki, straddling him, knees on the ledge. “You know I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“I know,” Loki said, a little faintly. 

“And I take _such_ good care of you, don’t I?” He bent down and kissed Loki, tongue pushing into his mouth, and Loki let himself relax into it. He needed to. He felt suddenly like he was floating, anchorless. 

A blank slate upon which to be inscribed.

“What are you going to give me, for being such a marvelous host?” The Grandmaster asked, pulling back and stroking his cheek. 

“What do you want?” Loki asked. 

“Oh, no,” the Grandmaster said. “I want suggestions. I want _ideas._ I know you can be creative - you can be creative, right? I know you’re such a clever thing.”

Loki swallowed. Something about that stirred something vaguely uncertain, some...doubt, but it was brief and fleeting. “Tie me down,” he said, the words spilling off his tongue. “Do to me - whatever you want. Use me.”

The Grandmaster’s lips curved into a smile that made Loki’s stomach clench. “I do like the sound of that,” he said, and leaned forward into Loki. “Let’s see how flexible you are.”

* * *

Loki was no stranger to bondage. Still, if the Grandmaster had asked for creativity, he clearly didn’t need the help.

He took his time tying Loki up, forcing Loki to hold still even as his breathing quickened, some faint and half instinctive fear twisting in his chest. An elaborate sequence of knots wrapped around his torso and criss-crossing over his shoulders, around his chest. Ankles bound to his thighs, and then he pushed Loki down to his front and pulled his arms back, winding rope around his wrists and pulling one of his ankles back to link the two. He could hear himself panting loudly, unable to move, every twitch making some muscle or another burn, pressing rope into skin.

The Grandmaster pressed a hand between his shoulder blades. “You suggested I tie you down,” he said mildly. “You’re not backing out now, are you? You look _so_ nice like this. I should really...hm. Take a picture.”

Loki licked his lips, trembling a little even as he tried to relax. “It’s a...a bit more than I was expecting.”

The Grandmaster frowned. “I’m hurt. I’m really - I’m hurt, after everything I’ve done for you, after I took away all those nasty memories...”

Loki heard the warning. “No,” he said quickly. “No, I…”

“That’s right,” the Grandmaster said firmly. “You’re all mine. And now for the finishing touches.”

He rolled Loki to his back - his shoulders protested and he hissed. The Grandmaster was hooking something into the front of the elaborate lacing of knots across his torso, and a moment later he was jerked up off the floor. 

Loki’s head fell back, his mouth opening in a soundless gasp. He swung, helpless, utterly immobile and seemingly weightless. The Grandmaster smiled down at him and Loki stared back, eyes wide.

“There,” he said approvingly. “You really do look...yes. I like it. A lot. Definitely...going to have to remember this one.”

Loki was not entirely sure he liked it. His skin kept prickling a warning. His chest felt tight, though that was probably partly the position. The Grandmaster, standing at his head, stroked his cheek, reached down and explored his chest, tracing the ropes and then drifting to tweak Loki’s nipples and drawing back up to stroke his throat. Loki realized what this position was good for.

“Loki, Loki,” the Grandmaster said, pulling his head gently further back so Loki was face to face with his cock. “You’re so _tense._ I swear, sometimes it feels like you don’t... _trust_ me.”

 _I don’t,_ Loki thought distantly, but out of his mouth came, “of course I do.” 

“That’s good,” the Grandmaster said, his cock rubbing against Loki’s lips, not quite pushing in. “Because honestly, I just - I just want the best for you.”

 _Of course,_ Loki thought dimly. _Of course you do,_ and he couldn’t tell if he believed it or not. 

The Grandmaster fucked his throat slow and smooth, the angle letting him slide in almost deeper than Loki thought he could take. He took it, though, and took it, and when the Grandmaster pulled out and came on his face, he licked his spend off his lips, rewarded by the Grandmaster’s delighted purr.

The memories _did_ come back, eventually. Thor. Asgard. Everything, and that brought on the panic, the shrieking thoughts of _get out of here while you still can, before he makes you forget everything entirely, for good-_

He knew that it was already far too late for that.

* * *

The third time...the third time. 

Loki knew he was being toyed with. He knew there was not, really, any planning for whatever the Grandmaster might come up with this time. He was still determined to be ready for it. 

The drink pressed into his hand this time was warm, steaming, and tasted like cinnamon - sweet at first but with a burn in his throat on the way down. It was good. Loki was lounging on a couch watching a wretched excuse for a play that he was busily rewriting in his head, the Grandmaster’s arm slung around his shoulder. Loki didn’t particularly want it there. He also wasn’t going to try to move it. 

“Do I get to ask what the experiment is this time?” Loki said, keeping his voice playful. The Grandmaster laughed like he’d made a joke, reaching over and chucking Loki’s chin. 

“You can ask,” he said indulgently. “In fact...go ahead and ask.”

Loki turned, leaning over so he was almost in the Grandmaster’s lap. “What’s this lovely concoction going to do to me?” He asked, lowering his voice to a purr. 

The Grandmaster’s hand wandered down over Loki’s ribs to rest on his thigh. “What’ll you give me if I tell you, gorgeous?”

Loki licked his lips. “What do you want?”

“All kinds of things. Sweetheart, beautiful...why don’t you tell me what _you_ want?”

“Long term or short term?” Loki asked, smiling, and the Grandmaster squeezed his thigh and leaned forward to kiss him. 

“Oh, _you._ Such a...clever tongue. In all _kinds_ of ways, hmm? Whoever lost _you..._ they must have had no idea what they were missing.” His fingers caressed along Loki’s jaw, teased over his lower lip. Loki imagined, brief and dangerous, biting them off. 

“I’m so lucky,” the Grandmaster purred, “that you just...tumbled right into my arms.” He leaned back. “So. Loki. Enjoying the play?” 

“No,” Loki said. “I could write better.” The moment the words were out of his mouth his eyes widened in horror and he stopped breathing. The Grandmaster’s hand rubbing his leg stilled. 

“Is that so?” He said. A shiver crawled down Loki’s spine and he felt the distinct, overpowering urge to run. 

“Yes,” he said. “It is, I _really_ hope you won’t kill me for saying so.” 

_No,_ Loki thought wildly. _No, no._ He looked at the empty glass he was still holding and blinked at it, horror twisting through his insides. “What did you do to me?” He asked, and panic squeezed his lungs like a fist. Loki lunged for his magic. “I need to go now-”

“Hey,” the Grandmaster said, a laugh in his voice, one hand pressing down on Loki’s leg, the other squeezing the back of his neck. “Don’t be in such a hurry, Lo. You don’t - really think I’d kill you just for a little _honesty,_ do you?” 

Loki blinked at him. _Wouldn’t you,_ he thought, and, “wouldn’t you?” 

“Well, maybe,” he said. “But not _you._ I _like_ you, remember? It’d be such a waste to have you melted down.”

Loki’s inhale shuddered. “You can’t-”

“Shh,” the Grandmaster said, laying a finger on his lips. “Shh, calm down a little, won’t you? You’re making _me_ stressed.”

Loki stared at him, wide-eyed. Trying to - _not_ think. Of course, trying not to think was an impossibility, by trying not to think of course one was thinking, psychic resistance rested on filling your mind with meaningless trivia and distractions-

“Goodness,” the Grandmaster said, eyebrows raised and lips quirked. “You really are...there’s a lot going on up there, isn’t there?”

“No,” Loki heard himself say faintly, less in response to the question than - general denial.

“Yes,” the Grandmaster corrected him. “There _is._ It’s...wow. No wonder you’re so _tense,_ gorgeous. See? This is good. I feel like you’re really...opening up to me.”

“Of course I am,” Loki said. “I can’t help it.” 

“You’re not wrong there,” the Grandmaster said. “But sometimes...that’s what we need. A little _push._ ”

“I don’t,” Loki said. The Grandmaster smiled and leaned in toward him. 

“You say that,” he said. “But I have to disagree.” He pushed Loki back on the couch, slowly, and Loki stared at him, thoughts momentarily blank and breathing hard. 

“Relax,” the Grandmaster said again. “Breathe. Seriously, do I need to...should I get you something for that?”

“Please don’t,” Loki said faintly, and tried to relax. Apparently he managed well enough, because the Grandmaster smiled and slid his thumb up the inside of Loki’s thigh. He twitched. 

“I wish that didn’t feel good,” he said, and oh Norns he was going to get himself killed if he couldn’t keep his damned mouth _shut-_

“I like your mouth,” the Grandmaster said conversationally. 

“I know,” Loki said.

“And you like _using_ it, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Loki said, and then, “no. Yes.”

“Is it, I have to know, is it tiring thinking so much?”

“Oh, definitely,” Loki said. “But I can’t stop, that’d be a lot worse.”

“See? This is good. We’re _connecting,_ Lo. I love it.” His hand was busy opening Loki’s pants.

“Really?” Loki said. “Here?” Why couldn’t he stop _talking?_ His face was on fire, certain every word out of his mouth was being overheard, even if they were alone in the box (other than three bodyguards, so not alone, really-)

“Why not? You’re not _shy,_ are you?” The Grandmaster hadn’t paused, rubbing his hand against Loki’s cock.

“Not - not _shy,_ just - that’s good, don’t, _damn it-_ ” 

“Ooh,” the Grandmaster said, a laugh in his voice. “See, this...this is fun.”

“For whom?” Loki said, gasping. The Grandmaster beamed at him. 

“For me, of course,” he said. “Obviously. And for you, too. I mean, that’s the goal.”

“Is it?” Loki said. The Grandmaster’s hand moved back, pulling his balls gently down. Loki sucked in a breath, sinking back into the couch as his body went slack.

“Absolutely,” he said. “I want you to be _happy,_ gorgeous. That’s all I want.” 

Loki groaned, hips grinding against the Grandmaster’s hand as he rolled Loki’s balls lightly in his palm. “Oh,” he said. “That’s - that’s nice.”

“Mmhm,” the Grandmaster said. “I _do_ have a bit of experience in these things.”

“I know you do,” Loki said, gasped, as his hand moved further back, one fingertip tapping against his asshole before pulling away. “It - it shows.” 

“You aren’t too shabby yourself.” He grasped Loki’s cock and if his hand was dry, Loki still swelled at his touch. 

“What high praise,” he said. “I’ve never had - _mmm_ \- had complaints from lovers before, honestly it’s a little, a little offensive-”

“Such a delicate ego,” the Grandmaster murmured, pulling his hand away. He stretched it out and snapped his fingers; Loki almost gaped when one of the guards came over and deposited a bottle of what was clearly lubricant in his outstretched hand. 

“Do all of them have one of those?” He heard himself ask. 

“I like to be prepared.” The Grandmaster sat up and moved to kneel between Loki’s legs, pulling his hips up so his ass was resting on the Grandmaster’s thighs, his shoulders still on the couch. “So,” he said, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his hand and slicking Loki’s cock in slow, lazy strokes, “how are we feeling?” 

“Trapped,” Loki said, and then squeezed his eyes closed. “Oh Norns. I can’t move very well like this, and I know that’s the point, and I hate knowing that it’s the point but it also - why can’t I stop, I want to stop - it also feels _good_ knowing that, I want it, I want that and I-”

The Grandmaster pressed his fingers to Loki’s lips again and, almost frantic for _something_ to stop him, Loki lifted his head to suck them into his mouth. “Oh,” the Grandmaster said, sounding delighted. “Nice.” 

It was - thoroughly stupid, but even that mild, inane praise made Loki shiver with pleasure and pride. And at least like this he couldn’t _talk._

“It must just be...exhausting. Being that tangled up inside about what you want. I bet you just...want someone to _tell_ you. Am I right? You’re just...begging for someone to, you know. Take over.” He pulled his fingers away from Loki, forcing him to open his mouth and answer. 

“Yes,” he heard himself breathe, and quivered with pure, unadulterated shame. 

The Grandmaster tapped his chin with his thumb, gently tilting Loki’s head back and running his tongue lazily up the line of his throat. “There,” he said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I shouldn’t - shouldn’t want-”

“Why not?” The hand on Loki’s cock pulled at him again and Loki bucked into it with a desperately breathed “more.” The Grandmaster smiled and did it again. 

“Close, I’m - _ha,_ what do you mean, _why,_ I-”

“I mean _why?_ ” The Grandmaster bent forward over him, pulling Loki’s hips further up so Loki could feel his erection rubbing against him. “Why should it be a problem? Some people are just made to submit and you _honestly_ look so good doing it I’m pretty sure you’re one of them. And I’ve, hm, got a good eye.” 

Loki moaned, digging his heels into the couch. “I can’t possibly _look_ like-”

“You do, though,” the Grandmaster informed him. Loki squeezed his eyes closed, burning with humiliation. He pulled his hand abruptly away from Loki’s cock and gave his pants a little tug. “You can get rid of these, can’t you?” 

Loki thought of the guards again. “I’d rather-”

“Ah, ah,” the Grandmaster interrupted. “Why don’t we just _practice._ You ease up on this whole...pretense. Just to, you know, _try_ it.”

Loki swallowed. “What happens if I don’t?” 

The Grandmaster raised his eyebrows, fingers trailing up to rest lightly against his throat. “There you go again. _Pushing._ ”

Loki’s pulse hammered under the Grandmaster’s fingers. “Point taken,” he said weakly, and tried to relax, gesturing to wave his clothes away in a shimmer of green-gold light. All his clothes; complete nudity felt somehow better than just shedding his trousers.

He said that, too, and the Grandmaster brought his hand back down to tease one of Loki’s nipples, rubbing and pinching until it was pink and sensitive and then pulling away. 

“Touch me,” Loki said, and his face heated. He was sure he must be flushed bright red. “Is that - no, I don’t mean to-”

“Say please,” the Grandmaster said, sounding vaguely smug. “I’ll accept requests.” 

“Please,” Loki said. It felt like something was being peeled away from him a little at a time. He couldn’t take it. He wanted more. “I can’t take it,” he said faintly, and, “more-”

“That’s what I’m going to give you,” the Grandmaster said, one hand gripping his cock again and the other sliding back to circle his asshole. Loki’s body clenched and he fought to relax, breathing hard and quickly. “That’s what you need, I think. All those - pesky little barriers keeping you from just _enjoying_ yourself.” 

“I don’t think - I don’t think that’s really what you want,” Loki said. His voice sounded thin and reedy. 

“Wow, that - that’s just hurtful, Loki,” the Grandmaster said. “You think I don’t want…? With everything I do for you-”

Loki panicked. “No,” he said quickly. “No, I don’t mean-”

“Hush,” the Grandmaster said, a laugh in his voice. “Re _lax._ Just-” His circling finger pulled away and when it came back was slick with lube, pressing against him. “--you’re so _nervous._ ”

“I think I have plenty of - reasons to be - _ahhh._ ” 

The push of his finger into Loki was just barely short of rough. He moaned loudly and raised his head only to let it fall back, his chest heaving. He yelped when the hand around the base of his cock squeezed at the same time as the Grandmaster shoved the single digit deeper, opening him up, slow and inevitable. 

He quivered, body strung tight. “There we go,” the Grandmaster said pleasantly, as though his erection wasn’t hot and thick against Loki’s body. “He likes that. Don’t you, pet?” 

Loki twisted. “Not - not a pet-”

“Sure you are,” the Grandmaster said. “ _My_ pet,” and Loki shuddered again, his mouth opening wide, body burning and now he couldn’t tell anymore if it was shame or pleasure. 

Or both. 

The Grandmaster pulled his hand on Loki’s cock away and ran it up over his chest. Loki whined a protest but tipped his chin up without thinking, offering his throat, and the Grandmaster took the invitation for what it was.

“Just - do it,” Loki said. His voice sounded so thin, so _weak._

“Ah,” the Grandmaster said. “Don’t be impatient. I don’t want to _hurt_ you.”

“Yes you do,” Loki said.

“Absolutely not,” the Grandmaster said, and by the rough thrust of his finger pulling back and slamming back in alongside a second, he might actually be offended. “I want to take _such_ good care of you, Lo, so _suspicious,_ no one’s treated you right in a long time, have they-”

“No,” Loki said. “No one-”

“How long’s it been, hmm?” He pulled his hand out and when he pushed his fingers back in they were slick, sliding more smoothly though he still felt the stretch of it, riding just the edge of what he could take. 

“Six - no, six and a half - _ahhhh._ Six and a half years. That long? I didn’t realize until-”

“No _wonder_ you’re in such a state _,_ ” the Grandmaster said, and the cloying sympathy in his voice was almost unbearable. His thumb pressed Loki’s chin up, pushing his head back until his neck started to protest. “Poor thing.” 

“Too slow,” Loki said. He could feel little tremors running through him. His cock was leaking on his stomach, hot and aching. “I need-”

“You _want,_ ” the Grandmaster corrected. “Important difference, there. But you’re lucky. I’m all about...giving people what they want. Really, I am. But it’s important to be _clear._ What are you asking for, here?

“Fuck me,” Loki said. “I want - stop teasing, I know you’re going to - just do it, _take_ me already-” His sentences kept breaking off midway through. Just like his thoughts.

“Mmm.” His fingers spread inside him and Loki gasped out. “I’m just - I don’t want to rush you.”

“Please,” Loki said, “ _Norns._ Rush me.”

“Well, all right. I suppose we can move things along a little.” The Grandmaster withdrew his fingers and straightened up, hands moving to Loki’s thighs and pulling them apart, arranging Loki’s body like he was a doll, and Loki just - let it happen. He shifted, leaning forward, blunt pressure against Loki’s hole, thicker than his fingers. Loki held his breath, shaking, only to exhale harshly when with a rougher _push_ the Grandmaster’s cock breached him. 

He pushed his cock in slowly so Loki could feel it stretching him open. He panted, chest heaving. “Too much - no, harder, more, I want - I can’t-”

“Shh,” the Grandmaster said. “Of course you can. No such thing as _can’t,_ that’s what I always say.” Loki’s stomach burned and he threw his arm over his face like he could hide that way, but there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to _go._

“Loki, sweetheart. Why would you need to hide from me?” He grasped Loki’s cock in one hand and rocked his hips, and Loki’s voice fractured as he cried out, grabbing on to the back of the couch.

“Make me stop thinking,” he gasped. “Make me-”

“Well,” the Grandmaster said. “When you put it like that.” He ran his fingers down over Loki’s hip bones, drawing back and then thrusting forward, sliding deeper into him and Loki squeezed his eyes closed.

“Tell me again what you want,” the Grandmaster said, his voice almost a purr. 

Loki gasped in a breath, hating himself for it, but trying to hold back was helpless. He couldn’t hold anything back. “I want to - I want to be fucked until I can’t speak anymore, until I can’t think so I can’t _talk,_ this is like - like being flayed alive-”

The Grandmaster breathed on the side of his neck. “Oh, come on,” he said. “That’s a little dramatic, isn’t it?” He snapped his hips forward, though, driving into Loki the rest of the way, and Loki gasped and flung his head back. 

“That’s - that’s good,” he heard himself say. “Just...just a small shift and it’d be perfect.”

“See? Communication,” the Grandmaster said. “So important in a relationship. Tell me when.” 

Loki felt him move, felt his cock move with him and his eyes slammed shut, mouth opening wide. 

“There _there_ -”

“Oh, good,” the Grandmaster said, and set back to it, riding Loki maddeningly slowly and only barely touching his cock, pressing a thumb to the base, smearing pre-come over the head with his fingertips. Every time Loki could feel himself building he slowed down, or pulled out, added more lubricant; Loki thrust against nothing, bucking his hips up seeking friction but it wasn’t _enough._

And he couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop _babbling_ about what was good, couldn’t help but answer the questions the Grandmaster posed: _how does it feel inside you when I do_ this, _what are you thinking right now, sweetheart, darling, don’t you ever get tired of fighting?_

 _Yes,_ Loki said, almost sobbed. _I do, but I can’t stop._

 _We’ll see,_ he said, and wrapped his hand around Loki’s cock, jerking it away just before the moment of release.

Eventually he stopped listening to himself, the words he was babbling, increasingly wild and incoherent and interspersed with gulping breaths like sobs. 

“Oh,” he heard the Grandmaster say approvingly. “You are a _marvel._ ”

“Thank you,” Loki said, and in the next breath, “I hate you,” and the Grandmaster just laughed.

“Well now,” he said. “Those are...some pretty strong words.” He trailed his fingers lightly over Loki’s ribs and he shuddered. “I don’t know why you’d say something like that.”

He pushed two fingers in alongside his cock and Loki’s voice broke, and he couldn’t even tell if he was speaking words anymore or just meaningless noises of terrible, inescapable pleasure.

* * *

The Grandmaster was...almost kind to him, afterwards. Almost. Loki leaned into it with shameful relief, exhausted. 

“We won’t do that again,” the Grandmaster promised him, though there was something smug underneath the conciliatory tone. “That was...a little too much, hmm? That’s what experimentation is all about. Finding those limits, figuring out...what works. What doesn’t.” 

Loki nodded, a little vaguely. 

“Next time,” he said, “we’ll do something better. Something _nice._ ”

 _Nice,_ Loki thought. _I doubt it._ And at the same time some part of him was vaguely hopeful that that might be true. He _wanted_ it to be. And had a distinct feeling that the Grandmaster’s idea of _nice_ and his own would probably not mesh.

* * *

The next time he didn’t even bother to ask. He took the glass the Grandmaster offered with a smile and tossed it back with a smile of his own. It tasted bittersweet. 

“Whoa,” the Grandmaster said with a laugh. “Slow down there, sweetheart. There’s no rush.” 

“Why not?” Loki said. His smile felt like a baring of teeth. “We might as well get started.”

“You might regret that,” the Grandmaster said, leaning forward and pulling the glass away, kissing Loki’s mouth, sucking on his lower lip before sinking his teeth lightly into it, then pulling away. “This one’s...well, it can be a little rough.” 

Loki licked his lips. “I thought you said next time would be nice,” he said, taking a slight risk. 

“Oh, it is,” the Grandmaster said. “Don’t front with me, Lo-lo. I know you like it a little rough.” He took Loki’s chin in hand and tilted his head back, extending his throat. “Am I wrong?” 

Loki swallowed hard. _Yes,_ he wanted to say. _You’re wrong._ But he knew the Grandmaster would catch the lie. “No. You’re not wrong.” 

“Of course I’m not,” the Grandmaster said, almost a purr. “I’m always right.”

Unease prickled in Loki’s stomach, but he summoned a smile. “Of course you are,” he said. The Grandmaster let his hand fall away to pat Loki’s chest. 

“Flatterer,” he said warmly. “Now you...you go have fun. I’ll come find you when the party starts.”

Loki wondered what kind of ‘party’, exactly, he was referring to. He was certain he would find out, but just once it would be nice to know ahead of time. 

Or maybe that would only make it worse. Anticipation sometimes did. 

He tried to push it out of his mind and ease into moving through the crowd, scanning faces, listening to conversations, absorbing every piece of information he could draw in. For all his efforts, though, he remained too aware of his body, constantly checking himself, or his thoughts, for any sign of what he’d been given. 

It occurred to him that perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps this time around the Grandmaster was just...testing his nerves. 

Loki plucked another drink from a passing tray, hoping it would settle him, and eased his way into a conversation discussing the Grandmaster’s mysterious champion fighter that Loki had yet to see. Apparently he was quite impressive to watch, though no few of the company seemed to resent his success. Loki wondered how much they might have lost attempting to bet against him. 

The tenor of the gathering shifted so slowly that at first Loki wasn’t entirely aware of it. He noticed a few clusters of people on couches, or on the floor, squirming in tangles of arms and legs and other assorted limbs, clothing scattered. A pair of Mallorians, both mouths fixed together, stumbled into him without seeming to notice that he was there. The music changed to something with a low beat that throbbed in Loki’s stomach. Someone reached out, trying to draw him into a knot of limbs, and Loki stepped carefully away.

True to his word, the Grandmaster found him. “Loki, Loki,” he said, his hair a little mussed, one shoulder of his robe slipped off, and a scantily clad Luphomoid hanging off his arm. “You look so...lonely.” 

Loki summoned a smile. “I was waiting for you,” he said, lowering his voice. The Grandmaster’s eyes lit up. 

“You _do_ say the sweetest things,” he said. “But really...I’m happy to share.” He slid his free arm around Loki’s waist, though, wandering down to squeeze his ass. Loki jolted a little, a thread of arousal unfurling slowly. 

He didn’t know where they’d come from, but there was someone behind him, their mouth pressing under his ear and sucking slow and insistent. Loki leaned back into it without deciding to, then decided not to resist. If he just rode this out...it was only an orgy, and he still didn’t feel anything strange. 

He could handle this.

When his companion’s mouth pulled away it left a pleasant ache behind. They gave Loki a little shove, urging him over toward a group clustered half on, half off a couch. Loki walked over, his eyes drawn to a - maybe half-Kree? - man on his back, cock curved up toward his stomach. _Might as well,_ he thought idly, _since I’m here,_ and folded himself to his knees.

A touch of magic let his clothing vanish where it wouldn’t be ruined, and another supplied some oil to slick his hand, sliding it lazily along his own length until he leaned forward to take both his cock and the other man’s in hand. Arousal was a warm, heavy weight in him, and for _once_ he wasn’t been pushed, or punished, or used. 

He felt the Kree hybrid moan, the jerk and pulse of his cock, the ripple of muscle of his stomach. When he came, ahead of Loki, his spend coated his chest.

A hand on the back of Loki’s head pushed him down, not quite pressing his face into the mess. Another replaced Loki’s own hand around his cock and twisted, slick and hot, and then stopped. 

Loki took the hint. He started licking his chest clean, the come thick and slightly bitter, but he was distracted by the slow, sweet working of his cock. This, he thought, this, he could enjoy. Almost without reservations. 

He had to stop as he got close to coming, the long, firm strokes pulling him toward the edge. He turned his head, gasping, and someone kissed him, tongue licking into his mouth, sucking on his tongue; when Loki tipped over the edge, hips rocking unconsciously into that steady fist, it was with a muffled moan. 

Basking in momentary relief, it took Loki a moment to realize that his cock wasn’t softening. Also that he could feel need building again as though he hadn’t come at all. 

_Oh no,_ he thought dazedly. His hips were being pulled up, ass lifted into the air, and Loki started to push himself up on his arms only to grunt and drop back down when a wet tongue licked him from balls to asshole. 

He shivered, hips jerking down against empty air, hands gripping his hips to hold him steady as whoever was behind him - he couldn’t _see -_ did it again, a long stroke of their tongue and then shorter flicks against his hole, fingers fondling his balls. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and gasped for air, cock twitching but there was still no friction for him to grind against, just that warm, wet tongue pushing eagerly against him. He moaned, body tensing and then going slack. As if they’d been waiting for just that, the tongue thrust into him. 

Loki made a strangled, desperate noise. A Krylorian woman looked up at him with a dazed smile and drug-fogged eyes. The hands on his hips pushed him forward. All breath left Loki’s lungs as his cock sank into her; he tried to thrust deeper but was held back, that warm, insistent tongue fucking him. 

The grip on his hips eased up and Loki moved, thrusting erratically, building until he spilled with a gasp, but she just grabbed onto his ass and held him inside her, grinding against him as whoever had been rimming him went back to it, a single finger stretching him open so their tongue could thrust deeper inside. Pushing him up again before he had even a second to come down. 

Not, Loki thought, that he was going to come down. That was the game, here. 

The mouth pulled away from him and Loki felt warm liquid on his ass and thighs, and then he was being pushed aside and rolled to his back, one more body in a tangle of bodies, almost indistinguishable. 

This wasn’t going to stop, Loki realized, hiccupping as a slick, warm mouth enveloped his still-hard cock, the sound swallowed a moment later as someone pushed past his lips. He was never going to be finished. He would just - keep coming until he was completely used up, and then be thrown out with the trash.

 _You like it a little rough,_ the Grandmaster murmured, and Loki had expected more ropes, maybe a whip or two, not...this.

Flashes:

He was on his back, someone riding him, something soft and smooth tickling his ribs. To his right he could see a pair of Aldarians stroking each others’ head-feathers and moaning in ecstasy.

Twisted on his side, someone fucking between his thighs, his head resting on the lap of someone playing with his hair and making a sound like the rumble of a big cat. It echoed through his body, reverberating in his cock. 

Hands massaging oil into his shoulders, or something, that sank into his skin like lotion and left him shivering in waves of intense, excruciating arousal before he finally came, entirely untouched.

Fucking himself on something that felt like glass, thick as his wrist, splitting him open but he was already stretched wide enough to take it and desperate for it to be enough, driving it into himself again and again. He came once that way, and then they rolled him over onto his stomach and fucked him again, slow, deep, every stroke sliding between pleasure and agony.

He was losing track of - everything. Hands, mouths, a variety of appendages and orifices to touch and stimulate and pleasure. The period of relief between orgasms seemed to grow shorter and shorter, so he barely had a moment before he was hungry again, eager to fuck or be fucked, to offer every part of himself in some desperate search for satisfaction. 

He’d long since run out of come, climax marked only by deep, painful spasms of his body, the jerk of his cock, the ache in his gut. 

Sprawled on his back on a settee of some kind, someone’s cock sliding against his ass (not inside, not now, thank the _Norns_ ), Loki looked down at an unfamiliar alien bent over his cock and watched a long, narrow tongue unfurl from its mouth, flicking lightly against its bright red, swollen head, probing with exquisite control. Whoever was behind him was holding him back, a strong arm across his chest, massaging his nipples. He bucked his hips up toward that dextrous tongue with a high, thin sound that broke off when it nudged against his slit and pushed in. 

Doe eyes looked up at him as Loki jerked, trying to pull back with a strangled noise of alarm. It didn’t exactly - _hurt_ but it was _strange,_ almost unbearably so, especially when he was so sensitive, but at the same time it was one place that no one had touched yet. 

He could feel the narrow tongue - proboscis? he thought absurdly - pushing into him, into his cock, pressure inside that left him feeling almost unbearably full and squirming with the strangeness of it, the burning stretch. The slow slide stopped and Loki panted, his body straining and then falling back. 

He felt a - _pulse,_ and the narrow tongue inside him thickened for just a moment, stretching him from inside and it was going to _ruin_ him, break him-

No, it wasn’t. Not yet, anyway, because the stretching stopped and then it was just sinking further into him, unfurling more of its tongue to lap at his insides, impossibly deep and probing deeper, seeking something. He could feel it moving, exploring. 

He knew the moment it found what it was looking for, because white light exploded behind his eyes and Loki heard himself howl. It was fingers inside him but dialed up to something more, something unbearably - _intimate,_ stroking impossibly deep inside him. Loki spasmed and let go.

He wailed, thrusting wildly up. He felt the tongue slither quickly out of him, his cock burning as he came dry, shaking with spasms that felt like a fist squeezing inside him. His senses were overloaded, thoughts blank and ragged like tattered cloth, pleasure shredding through him in wrenching waves. He couldn’t breathe, or couldn’t breathe enough, surrounded by bodies pressing against his. Sharp teeth cut into his shoulder; someone’s fingers slid into his mouth and he tasted something sweet that fizzed on the back of his tongue. He opened his eyes and saw the Grandmaster looking down at him, expression warm and pleased, and Loki stared at him wide-eyed. 

“Beautiful,” he said. “I love this.”

A moan echoed in his ear. He came again, _impossibly_ quickly, nerves screaming in protest, gasping, sobbing, frantic. It was too much. He needed more. 

“Please,” he begged, pulling his head away from the fingers in his mouth. “ _Please._ ”

“Almost there,” the Grandmaster said. “Almost.”

Loki’s thoughts went black, then red, then white. Every part of him raw. It was unbearable, but even as he writhed, trying to get away, chasing more, he could feel it tipping back over into pleasure. 

“ _There_ you go,” the Grandmaster said, and Loki felt something in him crack.

* * *

He was given some time to...recover. 

Loki didn’t think he could have managed anything even if he _was_ summoned. He could barely walk the distance from bed to bathroom without pain, every inch of his body raw and aching. Some ointment was delivered to his chambers with a note that said simply “ _for those little aches and pains :)_ ”. 

It tingled and burned a little inside him, but it did help. Mostly he just slept, strangely detached from his body. 

The summons did come, though. Loki stared at it, dread starting to unfurl in his stomach, and then started laughing. He never did the same thing twice. At least Loki could say that. So whatever he had planned this time…

It wouldn’t be like what had come before. 

He was relieved, though, to find the Grandmaster alone. He stood up when Loki entered and walked over to him, pursing his lips in a little frown. “Oh, dear,” he said. “You look a bit...tuckered out. We did go pretty hard the other night, I know.”

Absurdly, Loki was comforted. He summoned a smile that he knew must look weak. “It was a bit...intense.” 

“You were great, though,” the Grandmaster said. He walked over and brushed the back of his fingers against Loki’s cheek. “Just...great. Fantastic.” Loki’s eyes fluttered closed for just a moment before he jerked them open. The Grandmaster was smiling at him, warm and indulgent. 

“Go on,” he said. “Sit down. Let me pour you a drink.” Loki felt himself tense, and shiver. The Grandmaster leaned in and kissed him gently, like a lover, like an equal. 

Then he pulled away and walked over to the bar, robe swishing quietly around his legs. Loki watched him go and then went to the couch, sinking down onto it. 

The Grandmaster returned a moment later with a fluted glass brimming with something almost clear topped with foam. He took it and tried a small sip. The sparkle of it was nice, the flavor more subtle than anything else he’d had here. He leaned his head back into the couch. 

“Should I ask how sore I’m going to be when I leave here today?” 

“Sweetheart, Loki - I’m _hurt._ ” The Grandmaster leaned down over him and lifted Loki’s chin with two fingers. “I’m not _trying_ to hurt you. We’re just...figuring things out. Right? What works, what doesn’t. All part of the learning process.” He kissed Loki again, sucking on his lower lip, and then climbed onto the couch, straddling Loki’s legs and looking down at him. “Because you’re _worth_ that. You know? Some people, well, it doesn’t work out, you just move on, but then there are those ones worth taking your time.”

Loki licked his lips. “High praise,” he murmured. 

“Sure is.” The Grandmaster bent down, just breathing on Loki’s lips, and plucked the half finished glass out of his hand, dropping it on the floor. “I think that’s enough. We don’t want to overdo it.” 

“Oh, no,” Loki said. “We wouldn’t want that.” He thought he managed a graceful lightness, but the Grandmaster paused, and when he spoke his voice was just a hair less agreeable. 

“You know,” he said, “I’ve said - I’ve said I like your mouth, and I _do,_ but sometimes you just say - things. Things I don’t exactly _like._ And I just have to wonder if, you know, you really appreciate what a good thing you’ve got going on here.” 

“I do,” Loki said quickly. “Of course I do. I didn’t mean-”

The Grandmaster’s hand cupped his chin again, thumb running lightly over his bottom lip. “Good,” he said. “Good, I’m so glad to hear that. You have so much potential, honeybunch. I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Loki swallowed hard. “And what do you want to do with my...potential, right now?” He asked softly. The Grandmaster smiled, tapping his thumb against Loki’s lips before pulling his hand away. 

“See? Now you’re catching on.” He pulled back, standing up. “Now. _You_ take off your clothes and get on the bed. Let’s start with facedown.”

A faint shiver rolled down Loki’s spine, but after that warning he wasn’t about to argue. He stood up slowly and stripped out of his clothes as the Grandmaster walked away, dropping them onto the couch. He wasn’t normally very self-conscious about his nakedness, but just now he felt very...exposed. 

Still, he stretched out on the bed, face down with his head resting on folded arms. He heard the Grandmaster returning and felt him getting onto the bed. 

“So,” he said conversationally,” and Loki heard a squirt of liquid and tried not to tense or close his eyes or think about how his ass still felt a little tender. “We’re going to take this...slow. Build up gradually. That was your mistake last time - went in hard, zero to max in a hot second.”

“ _That_ was the problem,” Loki said, under his breath. The Grandmaster’s hands spread out across his back, then up to his shoulders, thumbs digging in next to his shoulder-blades. His skin was warm and slick and Loki realized what the oil had been for and was, ever so slightly, relieved. 

“And I’ve got something - something really special for you in mind. So I just want to make sure you’re ready, warmed up, all that.” 

Loki opened his mouth to respond and just let out a moan as the Grandmaster’s fingers found a knot near his spine. “There’s a spot,” he said. “Oof. Feels painful.” He rubbed in slow, gentle circles and Loki felt muscle crunch and then release, the knot unraveling. The Grandmaster moved slowly, sliding over Loki’s skin, working the tension out of his back and shoulders. Loki slumped limply into the bed, eyes closed and floating in something approaching bliss. His cock felt heavy if not hard, body warm and loose. 

“Feels nice?” The Grandmaster said warmly. Loki made a sort of “mmm-hm” sound, and the Grandmaster’s hands moved down to his lower back, sliding down to squeeze his ass. Loki twitched a little, and tensed when he pulled Loki’s buttocks apart to skim one finger just lightly over his hole.

He pulled back, though, and just patted Loki’s flank. “Over,” he said, and Loki pushed himself up to roll clumsily to his back. The Grandmaster smiled down at him and squeezed his thighs, moved one still slick hand up to run a finger along Loki’s cock. “Right, then,” he said. “Now that you’re all relaxed…something to make sure you stay still.”

“Stay still for what?” Loki asked. His voice came out a little blurry, and for a moment he thought it was the drug, but no, it was just that he was actually _relaxed_ for what felt like the first time in...a while. 

“Stay still for what’s next,” the Grandmaster said with a smile that was not particularly reassuring. “Arms out, legs spread. We’ve got these bedposts for a reason, you know.”

The cuffs the Grandmaster buckled around his wrists were soft, padded. Still, he tugged against them, heart rate kicking up a notch, and couldn’t budge an inch. He moved down to Loki’s ankles, stretching out his legs and binding them as well. He felt his breathing start increasing and tried reflexively to pull away.

“Ah, ah,” the Grandmaster said lightly, and Loki made himself stop, though he couldn’t quite calm. There something unnervingly vulnerable about being stretched out like this that hadn’t been true of the ropes. Spread-eagled, even on his back on a bed. 

He didn’t think that was entirely unreasonable. And yet still, his body responded, warming, his stomach tightening. 

_Traitor,_ he thought, just a little bitterly. The Grandmaster rubbed a hand up and down Loki’s thigh where he was standing next to the bed. 

“Good,” he said. “Just gorgeous. Spread out like...like a banquet. Something like that. De-licious.” 

Loki swallowed, inhaling softly. He tensed and then forced himself to relax when he felt the tug against wrists and ankles. He was stretched almost to his limit - pulling at all would strain. 

“And what,” he swallowed. “What are you planning to do with this - banquet?” 

“Savor it,” the Grandmaster said promptly. “Of course.” He climbed up onto the bed and stretched out next to Loki, running his fingers over his stomach, his ribs, sliding down to trace the sharp line of his hipbone, the very faint trail of dark hair below his navel. Loki’s cock stirred and started to stiffen. 

In spite of the restraints, he started to ease into the pleasant, warm feeling of it, letting out a soft sigh when the Grandmaster took his cock in hand, working him in slow, gentle strokes - _savoring_ him, as it were, and Loki savored it too, holding in the moment instead of thinking forward to what might be coming. “Good,” he said. “Good, that’s sweet, I like feeling you get hard for me. Regular work of art, you are.” 

Loki flushed, the praise sinking into him, warming his stomach, making his cock twitch.

The Grandmaster pressed a kiss to Loki’s collarbone and pulled his hand away only to add more of the same oil he’d used for the massage, palm moving slickly against Loki’s skin until he couldn’t keep his hips from rocking into the grip, slightly too loose, just enough to leave him wanting more. 

He paused, thumb tapping against the head of Loki’s cock, short, staccato touches that had him jerking with each one. “Hmm,” he said. “What do you think. Time I, ah, had a taste?”

Loki’s lungs emptied. “That’s - up to you, isn’t it?” He said, hesitant to ask, to ask for _anything._ The Grandmaster laughed. 

“Sure is,” he said. “But I just thought I’d, hmm, ask an opinion. Just for the sake of politeness.” His thumb stopped tapping in favor of rubbing a slow circle that had Loki inhaling shakily. 

“I’m - in favor,” Loki said, twisting his head to the side. The Grandmaster smirked and slid down Loki’s body, thumbs sliding up his inner thighs. He glanced up at Loki and raised his eyebrows, lifting Loki’s cock to run his tongue the length of the underside. 

Loki shuddered and dropped his head back, closing his eyes, but the Grandmaster pulled away, thumbs pressing into skin.

“Look at me,” he said, clearly a command. Loki lifted his head, neck straining a little. The Grandmaster paused, moved back up Loki’s body, and pulled a pillow down, generously propping up Loki’s head and shoulders. “Better?” He said solicitously, and didn’t wait for an answer before moving back and repeating the same stroke, tongue pressing a little harder. Moving in slow licks, shortening until he just _flicked_ his tongue under the head. 

Loki let out a sharp, rough sound, hips jerking up, and the Grandmaster pulled back again.

“Hey, hey,” he said. “Hold still. Don’t get impatient. Savoring, remember?” 

Loki licked his lips and nodded. “I’ll - I’ll hold still.”

The Grandmaster smiled. “Good boy,” he said, and circled his tongue over the head of Loki’s cock, probing. Loki’s breathing shortened to gasps and stopped altogether when he slid his mouth over Loki’s cock, tongue pushing again at the same spot that made Loki jerk, fighting to hold his hips down to the bed, not quite shaking. 

He pulled off with an obscene pop and grinned. “That’s it, isn’t it,” he said. “That’s the spot. Good to know. I’m not going to rush you, though, more to the point, not going to rush _me,_ this is fun.” 

This time he slid his mouth down a little further, sucking instead of using his tongue. Loki moaned and pressed his hips back into the bed so he didn’t thrust upwards, didn’t demand more. He squeezed his eyes closed only to open them with a cry when he felt the faintest brush of teeth in warning, though his treacherous cock jumped at the sensation skimming close to the edge of pain. His balls were starting to ache and tighten, drawing closer to finishing, but just as he thought he might be about to come the Grandmaster stopped. His mouth still around Loki’s cock, but not moving, no tongue, no suction. 

Loki made a sound of protest and started to raise his hips, only just catching himself before he did. A shudder ran through him. The Grandmaster waited, thumbs rubbing steady circles on Loki’s inner thighs, until some of the tension bled out of him, and then pulled off with a wet sucking sound. Loki’s cock gleamed with spit, flushed darkly. The Grandmaster cupped his balls in one hand, pulled gently, and then let go, climbing back off the bed. Loki looked after him, frustrated want pulsing in his cock and stomach. 

“You’re not - done already?” He dared to say. 

“Of course not,” he said. “We’re just adding - a new element.”

“A new element,” Loki echoed. His arousal dimmed a little, affected by the nervousness. 

“Mmm-hmm.” The Grandmaster was poking through a cabinet and then with a little “a-ha!” turned around, holding a case. He brought it over, set it down on the table next to the bed, and popped it open. 

“These first,” he said, holding up a bag of what looked like silver beads. Loki eyed them and opened his mouth, but the Grandmaster put one finger to his lips. “Hush,” he said. “No questions. Just lie back.”

The beads, it turned out, stuck to skin. The Grandmaster placed them one after another - two on his chest, two on his stomach, two on the tops of his thighs and one just below his navel. They were cold at first but warmed quickly to skin temperature; when he was done the Grandmaster sat back to admire them. 

“Good,” he said. “Like that. Now, where were we…”

Loki’s cock had almost entirely softened. The Grandmaster took him lightly in hand, holding something in his other that Loki couldn’t quite see, and pumped his hand up and down until Loki was panting again, the Grandmaster’s hand squeezing around him. 

“Okay,” he said. “Here - here we go.” 

Something danced over his skin, a prickle like the feeling of strange magic, connecting the metal points. Was that it? Some kind of working-

“Little more?” The Grandmaster said, and this time the jolt was clearer. It shot through him, spidering through his body, over his skin, a familiar feeling from when Thor had sometimes grabbed him in anger. 

He started to jerk up, met the ends of his restraints, and fell back. 

“Ah,” he said. “I’m not - I’m not sure-”

“If you’re not sure,” the Grandmaster said, “better keep trying.” He stroked Loki’s cock from base to tip and the shock went off again, longer this time, electricity zapping over his skin, coursing through his body, centered in those seven points but spreading out through him, down his arms to his fingers. And he was - responding to it. 

“Want something more intense?” The Grandmaster asked, and before Loki could answer he got it, a longer, sustained, shock. He arched with a sharp noise that might be pain or might be pleasure, his cock twitching in the Grandmaster’s hand. He dropped back down to the bed, muscles twitching. 

“Ah,” he heard himself saying. “Ah-”

“Ever done this before?” The Grandmaster asked smugly. Loki shook his head. 

It made him think of Thor. He tried not to think of Thor, didn’t want to, not here and now, not when he was - was _this._ Helpless, coming undone under the Grandmaster’s hands-

He cried out at the next shock, going longer. The Grandmaster’s hand pumped up and down his cock and Loki strained, seeking release, his body coiling tight.

The Grandmaster’s thumb pressed against that spot he’d found with his tongue, rubbed deliberately, and Loki gasped, release surging in him-

And stopping. Like he’d hit a wall, like there was something holding him _back._ He was so _close,_ panting, straining, and he couldn’t - _couldn’t -_

“Mm,” the Grandmaster said, sounding delighted. “You have no _idea_ how good you look.”

Loki gasped out a breath. The Grandmaster pulled his hand off Loki’s cock and caressed his hip. “Shh,” he said. “That’s it.” 

“I need,” Loki said. “I need-”

“I know, I know,” the Grandmaster said soothingly. The current slammed through him again and Loki shouted, throwing his head back, body arching off the bed. “Ooh,” he said. “There, I think. That’s a good place. We’ll just hold there.” He bent down and licked Loki’s stomach, Loki’s cock rubbing against the Grandmaster’s chest. He ground against him but though it felt good, _blessedly_ good, and it should be enough-

Nothing. He couldn’t. He _couldn’t._

He almost howled when the Grandmaster sent the shockwave through him again, the electric crackle audible. He pushed his hips desperately up, grinding frantically against the Grandmaster’s body only to gasp when he pulled away. 

“I can’t - ah, it _hurts-_ ”

“Give it a minute,” the Grandmaster said amiably. “That’ll change.” 

He took Loki’s cock, stroking from base to tip with a little twist, and Loki slammed his eyes closed. He whined, but he could feel what the Grandmaster had meant, the intense, overwhelming pressure shifting toward something that, if not _pleasurable,_ felt more bearable. 

Though that changed quickly with another jolt of electricity, shooting up his spine and down to his toes. His muscles seized and then relaxed and he sucked in breath after frantic breath. He could feel his cock leaking on his stomach but nothing more, no relief even if he could feel his release, just out of reach. His toes curled and he strained, then dropped limply back down, panting.

Every touch, every jolt of current coursing through his body, pushed Loki up to the edge only for him to fall back like a dog tugging at the end of a leash. Sensation built into pain again and teetered back into deep, pulsing pressure that could almost pass for something good, then back over into pain, and he veered back and forth between them.

The Grandmaster was talking to him: _that’s good, you’re a natural at this, careful there, shh, that’s it, keep going._ Loki whimpered, mouth open, and screamed when another shock sent him up, _up-_

 _Please,_ he thought he must have said, _please, this time, I, let me come-_

He didn’t.

Loki made a ragged sound, half a sob, and twisted his head to the side. Tears were leaking out of his eyes, frantic, trembling. He twisted, his muscles cramping, his cock a throbbing ache, need hammering him with every breath. 

And the Grandmaster looking down at him, smiling. “Gorgeous,” he said. “Just stunning,” stroking himself until he came on Loki’s stomach, and he thought he’d never been so jealous of anyone.

After he came, he untied Loki and gave him a glass of water. Loki just lay there, limp and breathing raggedly, for perhaps ten minutes before the Grandmaster bent down over him and breathed on Loki’s cock. 

“No,” he said.

“Yes,” the Grandmaster said firmly, and sucked Loki down in one smooth movement. 

Something gave, deep within, and Loki would have screamed if he had any air to do it with as he finally came, pleasure rolling through him in wave after wave until it burned and he realized he was taking gulping, sobbing breaths on every inhale. The Grandmaster didn’t pull off him until he was spent, and then crawled up his body to press his tongue into Loki’s mouth. He tasted his own come in what was less a kiss than a stamp of ownership. 

He could barely move to respond, blinking, dazed. His muscles ached and his body was still throbbing, sensitive. He realized that he was shaking.

“Well,” the Grandmaster said. “ _Well._ I think we can call that one a success.”

* * *

The next time the Grandmaster called, Loki was almost resigned, but this time the Grandmaster didn’t actually make him drink anything before fucking him. 

He waited until after.

“This one,” the Grandmaster said, turning toward Loki where he was sprawled loose-limbed on the couch, still trying to catch his breath. “This one is a personal favorite.” 

“Is it, now,” Loki said, pushing down his unease. 

“Mm. It’s...fun. Exciting. You either love it or you - don’t, in my experience-”

 _Or you don’t._ Loki tried not to swallow. “And you’re expecting I’ll be the former?” 

“Oh, I have no idea,” the Grandmaster said. “It’s a complete gamble, honestly. Fifty-fifty. What do you think of those odds?” 

Loki pushed himself up. “They seem a bit...longer than I typically prefer.” 

“Really? Come on, gorgeous. Take a little risk.” His smile was flirtatious, dazzling, dangerous. “For me?” He walked over to the couch and bent over it, holding out the glass. The liquid in it was purple, swirling with blue. 

Loki took it. _If I said I didn’t want to, would you accept it?_ Loki imagined asking, but he knew he wouldn’t. He’d stopped drawing lines. Stopped even trying. All he could do was give in, and give in, and give in. 

“For you,” Loki said with a small, wry, smile, and drank. It was bittersweet, and Loki let it slide slowly over his tongue like he could forestall the inevitable. 

The Grandmaster nudged him up a little from lounging and then sat down next to him, pulling Loki to lean against his shoulder, rubbing one hand up and down Loki’s bare upper arm. His skin tingled in its wake. 

An effect of the drink or just of that familiar touch on sensitized skin? He’d already been worked over once. An aphrodisiac, maybe? No, that was too simple.

“You know,” the Grandmaster said, “I feel like we’ve, you and me, we’ve made a lot of progress. Am I right? We’ve got something...a special thing going. Totally in sync.”

“Mmm,” Loki said, a nervous prickle crawling down his spine.

“I still feel a little like you’re...holding out on me.” 

Loki sipped at the drink he was holding. “I don’t know why you’d say that,” he said carefully, summoning a smile. “I’m an open book.” 

“You tease,” the Grandmaster said fondly, hand squeezing briefly. Loki couldn’t tell for sure if it was warning or affection. “It’s part of your charm. But you know, I...I just wish you would trust me.”

Loki raised his eyebrows, daring to be a little blunt. “You don’t trust me.” 

“What? No, no. Of course I do. Well, not completely.” He leaned in and kissed Loki, almost absurdly chaste. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t do anything to upset me. Would you?” 

“No,” Loki said. “Of course not.”

“Good.” This time the kiss was a little deeper, and his teeth caught Loki’s lip when he pulled away. “Now finish your drink.” 

Loki raised the glass to the Grandmaster and drank, slow and steady. The sweetness got stronger as he went, and when the glass was emptied he found a small, hard orb resting at the bottom.

The Grandmaster reached in and plucked it out. “Open your mouth,” he said. Loki obeyed, and let him slide two fingers into Loki’s mouth along with the orb, holding it on his tongue until it dissolved like sugar. 

Loki let his eyelids fall. “Are you going to tell me what happens next?” 

The Grandmaster slid his fingertips along Loki’s jaw. “It’s just something to...relax you a little. Break down some of those walls you’ve built up because of all those people who’ve treated you like...trash.” 

_I like my walls,_ Loki thought, but he nodded. Even if he knew it was a trap, some part of him still wanted to sink into what the Grandmaster professed to believe. That Loki _deserved_ something special. His stomach had begun to feel warm, a slow burn spreading up his throat: not quite the feeling he associated with being drunk, precisely. Something adjacent. 

“Who makes all these?” He asked. 

“Research and Development,” the Grandmaster said. “I told you we’re all about experimentation. I’m all about - hm, investing in the future.” 

He smiled. Loki honestly could not tell if he was joking. 

“Admirable,” he said finally. The warmth in his stomach and throat had started to spread to his limbs, and he was beginning to feel...weightless. The sensation of the Grandmaster’s fingers trailing up and down his bare arm felt strange. Not like he was oversensitive, or aroused, just...strange. 

“How’re you feeling?” The Grandmaster asked, watching him closely. 

“Good,” Loki said. “I think.” He twitched his fingers. “A bit...peculiar.” 

“Mm-hm,” the Grandmaster said. “That’s good. Fast-acting stuff, new formula. Glad to see it’s working.” He shifted, sitting sideway and removing his arm from Loki’s shoulders to slide his other up across Loki’s stomach, pausing to rub and tease one of his nipples until the skin flushed. Loki dropped his head back with a faint sound, his skin prickling. 

“Good,” the Grandmaster said. “That’s...very nice.”

A pleasurable shiver ran through him. “What is?” He asked. “I’m not doing anything.” 

“Not entirely true,” the Grandmaster said. His hand was still trailing absently over Loki’s chest. Colors danced in front of his eyes in strange patterns, and he blinked them away. The Grandmaster’s lips pressed lightly to his throat and Loki hummed, relaxing back into it.

He trailed soft kisses down to Loki’s chest and Loki dropped his head back, staring up at the ceiling. 

“That feels…” He trailed off. 

“Feels what?” The Grandmaster asked, his voice vibrating into Loki’s skin. The vibration didn’t stop when he stopped, though, echoing through him, reverberating, expanding. Images flickered at the corner of his vision but when he turned his head to follow them he couldn’t make anything out. 

His stomach turned a little nervously. “Are we alone?” 

“Hmm-mm.” The Grandmaster was sucking kisses into his neck again, but Loki was only sort of aware of the feeling, distracted by a low hum in his ears that built to something like the sound of the music of...he could almost name it. A lullaby, he realized. A lullaby Frigga used to sing to him.

He jerked up, or started to, but the Grandmaster pushed him back down. He looked around. “Where is that coming from,” he asked tightly. “Where-”

“Shh,” the Grandmaster said. “Just lie back and enjoy it.” He caressed Loki’s chest. Loki took a couple shallow breaths and tried to relax, but he just felt himself winding tighter. The images at the corner of his eyes were starting to resolve into figures only to fade away; he could hear whispering behind him but couldn’t make out words. 

“I’m not - something’s wrong,” Loki said. His hands felt strange. Wouldn’t move when he tried, paralyzed. Fingers stroked gently over his ribs and Loki shuddered. 

“Wrong?” The Grandmaster said. “What could possibly be wrong? You’re just - we’re having a _great_ time.”

“Something’s wrong,” Loki insisted again. The whispers stopped. There was a low hiss behind him, something sneaking up and he couldn’t turn to see.

He was suddenly, inescapably certain he was going to die. His lungs weren’t working, there was a lightning storm inside his skull, his heart was about to stop. Finally, his body answered him and he surged up, but something pushed him back down, pressing against his skin, pressing _through_ his skin. The Grandmaster had poisoned him - was killing him - 

“My,” he said, strangely mild. “My. What are you so _afraid_ of, Loki, sweetheart? Don’t you know you’re safe with me?” 

Loki’s eyes rolled back and his head twisted to the side but he was only vaguely aware of doing so. His body wasn’t his own, he wasn’t his body, he was looking down at himself spread out on the couch - was this death? The room expanded around him, no boundaries, nothing, the universe vast and terrible and empty.

Thor stood in front of him, carrying his own head by his long, blonde, hair. He tossed it to Loki and he dropped back down into his body, looking at his hands, blood on his hands, and he screamed, or tried.

 _This is a nightmare,_ he thought. _You’re dreaming,_ but he wasn’t, was mercilessly awake. 

Dark was starting to creep in around the edge of his vision, everything closing, the kaleidoscope of images turning black. It was the Void stretching out to swallow him, a great maw opening and he was tumbling into it, falling and falling and at the bottom Thanos’s hands would catch him-

He heard himself making thin, high pitched sounds. His whole body was shaking but he couldn’t make himself move. His heart was hammering against his ribs, trying to explode out of his body.

“Help me,” he said desperately. “ _Please-_ ”

“Hey,” the Grandmaster said soothingly. “Hey, you’re fine, sweetheart, you’re good.” 

“No,” Loki said. “It’s all - it’s all black, everything is black-”

“Not even a little.” A hand settled lightly on his cheek. “This is my planet, remember? No _black_ allowed. Dreary color. I wouldn’t allow it.”

Loki breathed in with a hitch. “I’m going to die.” It was never going to end. This was never going to end, he was going mad for good this time. 

“No, you won’t,” the Grandmaster said, his voice almost gentle. “I _certainly_ wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. Not you, gorgeous. Just...deep breaths, all right? It’ll get easier. Here on out. You’re, mm, through the worst of it. And I’ll take care of you. Promise.”

There was something - wrong with that. Loki knew there was. But it was all tangled with the fear and the despair and the terrible certainty that he wasn’t going to survive this, and he couldn’t - couldn’t manage to find it. 

“That’s it,” the Grandmaster said, his voice warm. “Oh boy. That was...intense. But you know, I really think that - adversity brings people together.”

Loki panted. He head lolled to the side. He could smell the Grandmaster, faintly: mint and spice and something old and impossibly powerful. He clung to it, turned his face into his thigh with his eyes squeezed closed. 

“Make it stop,” he pleaded. “Make it - stop.”

“Almost there,” the Grandmaster said. “You’re so close, darling. Just a little bit further and it’ll be over.” 

Loki heard himself make a fractured, hurt sound. “He’s going to come for me,” he gasped. The Grandmaster’s hand rubbed a circle on his back. 

“Anyone who tries to steal you away from _me_ is going to run into trouble,” he said. “I’m really - well, I wouldn’t say I’m a _jealous_ guy but some things I really...don’t want to share.”

That shouldn’t have been comforting. It was. He was shivering, eyes still squeezed closed like that would keep him from feeling the world crumbling around him. 

“Shh,” the Grandmaster said, hand moving from his back to his neck, into his hair. “That’s it. You’re doing just _fantastic_. I’m going to take _such_ good care of you.”

A voice at the back of his mind was screaming. Most of him just reached for that lifeline, clung to it, hanging on with all his strength because if he let go, he would drown, or burn.

* * *

Well, Loki thought, the Grandmaster had meant what he said. He _was_ relaxed. (Limp.) His barriers had broken down. (Shattered.)

 _Something has to give,_ Loki thought, lying there, his head on the Grandmaster’s chest, basking miserably in the feeling of the Grandmaster’s fingers in his hair. 

_It’s going to be me._


End file.
